


Of Diners and Lace

by Crowgirl



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Feels, Fluff, Lace Panties, Lingerie, M/M, Not Beta Read, Panties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 18:03:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16837651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowgirl/pseuds/Crowgirl
Summary: Bucky turns away from the mirror because if he keeps looking for one more second he’s going to chicken out and he hates chickening out.





	Of Diners and Lace

Bucky turns away from the mirror because if he keeps looking for one more second he’s going to chicken out and he hates chickening out. So he yanks on his jeans, stomps into his boots without bothering to lace them up, and grabs his hoodie on his way out.

‘Took you long enough,’ Tony says, tapping theatrically at the watch he doesn’t wear. Bucky flips him the finger just in time for Steve to emerge from the lift and see it. 

‘Fighting already?’

‘When do we do anything else?’ Tony complains but since he does it while moving to kiss Bucky like they hadn’t just spent most of the afternoon messing around with one of Tony's bikes in the workshop, Bucky can’t really complain too much.

* * *

Tony had promised them that the diner was ‘old school -- just like you guys; you’ll love it’ and Bucky has to admit, it’s pretty good. It’s a little consciously retro -- something Clint taught him about by way of a lot of ‘Mad Men’ episodes -- but he kinda likes it. Everything looks like the fresh, new version of the battered old shit he and Steve grew up with. 

The food’s good, too, and he’s hungry enough that it takes until halfway through what is frankly a huge BLT for him to be not-hungry enough to remember what's under his jeans.

And once he remembers, he can’t stop noticing the little prickles of fabric, seams where he’s not used to there being seams.

‘You okay, Buck?’ Steve asks finally and Bucky curses himself and tries to imagine his hips glued to the faux leather seat. That doesn’t help a lot -- it just makes him think of the time Tony wanted to test the tensile strength of some material he was working on and asked Bucky to guinea pig a knot or two and -- well, JARVIS had complained about the lab clean-up for a week.

‘Yup. ‘m fine.’

‘You look like you’re sitting on an ant hill,’ Tony says, sucking a stray drip of ketchup off the tip of his thumb. ‘If this place is too much--’

Bucky shakes his head. ‘No -- no, no, it’s fine, it’s great.’

Why the hell is he doing this? It was a throw-away comment of Tony’s from two weeks ago that he doubts Stark even remembers now -- but it had made Steve’s eyes flare hot and, dammit, they've done everything for him so he should do something for them.

‘Just...looking forward to getting back,’ Bucky lets himself say and Steve smiles at him, warm and beautiful, and Tony snorts.

‘Insatiable -- that’s the word for you, Barnes.’

‘Oh, yeah? I don’t hear you complaining any.’

‘Hell, no.’ Tony reaches across the table and picks up Bucky’s hand, presses a lavish kiss to the knuckles, then lets go to wave for the waitress. ‘Check, please!’

* * *

When they’re back at the tower, back in Tony’s bedroom and Steve reaches for the button on his jeans, Bucky takes a step back. ‘I -- I got you guys somethin’.’

‘You, right?’ Tony says, padding up beside him and running a firm hand over Bucky’s shoulders. 

‘Somethin’...you said you’d like.’ Bucky draws a deep breath and shrugs out of his hoodie, tossing it onto a nearby chair. ‘But -- you gotta back off a bit,’ he adds as Tony's hands start to sneak up under his shirt and Steve goes back for the button.

Steve blinks but raises his hands -- then grabs Tony’s wrist and tows him a few steps away. 

Bucky swallows hard and kicks off his boots, then closes his eyes and shoves his jeans off in one quick motion, stepping out of the tangle of denim and... waiting.

The room is entirely silent for a minute and Bucky can feel himself turning crimson: he must look like an idiot. What the fuck had he been thinking--

‘Holy Jesus,’ Tony says finally, his voice oddly flat. 

‘Buck…’ Steve's voice is barely audible, a whisper of sound that Bucky only catches because the room is otherwise dead still.

Bucky squeezes his eyes tighter, until he can see colored splotches, and drags at the hem of his white t-shirt. He’s not sure if he's trying to cover himself or just distract them or what but his knuckles brush the swell of his cock under the black lace and he grunts before he can stop himself. He hadn’t expected it, but putting the things on had been -- and then sitting in the diner and _feeling_ them --

‘They’re the ones from the picture… fuck me, Barnes, you’re thorough…’ Tony sounds _awed_ but what really gets Bucky’s attention is the warm brush of fingertips just over the arch of his hipbone, just above where the black lace ends. 

‘I -- you said -- you’d like -- and then Steve --’ Bucky fumbles and stops. He’s no good with words, never has been, presumably never will be, so he can’t explain the twist in his chest when he saw both Steve and Tony want something they didn’t think they could ask him for. They can ask him for _anything._ He’s not gonna say there’s nothing he wouldn’t give them -- there’s things he just _can’t_ \-- but anything he can? He will. 

There’s the sound of soft movement and then he feels Steve’s hands on his hips, then Steve’s fingers dusting over the lace, tracing over it like he can’t believe it’s there, and Bucky doesn’t know when he opened his eyes but Steve is on his fucking _knees_ in front of him and Bucky can’t stop the groan this time. 

‘Here -- here, get rid of this--’ Tony’s pulling at his shirt, hands impatient as he helps Bucky tug it off. ‘Jesus fuck me, Barnes…’ And Tony _plasters_ himself against Bucky’s back, hands flat on either side of his navel, fingertips just brushing the lace waistband and when Steve looks up at them, his eyes are almost black they’ve gone so dark. 

‘So I -- I got the right pair?’ Bucky hazards, not sure if he wants to make a joke or just beg them to fuck him but this tension has to break somehow.

‘Honey…’ Steve reaches up and tangles his fingers with Tony’s over Bucky’s left hip. ‘...for us?’

‘I sure as shit didn’t do it for Coulson.’ 

Tony’s bark of laughter does it -- the tension snaps and dissolves and there’s just the three of them in the room and _this_ is easy, this has _always_ been easy, Bucky _knows_ how to do this. 

So he does: he grins down at Steve, lets his fingers slip into Steve’s hair, tease at the curve of his ear, leans back against Tony, shifts his hips a little side to side, dragging his ass over Tony’s cock. ‘So you like ‘em?’ 

**Author's Note:**

> Find the reference photo [here](https://justanothertart.tumblr.com/post/180770446731/justanothertart-black-lace-in-some-golden) \-- well, until Tumblr kills it on December 17th, 2018, anyway. 
> 
> Giving her all the fic is getting a leetle silly, but this is really all down to [Catchclaw](https://archiveofourown.org/users/catchclaw) again! (Also the title. Thanks for that.)


End file.
